


Gospel

by ridgeline



Category: Constantine (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Hell Loops (Lucifer TV), M/M, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 15:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19726741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ridgeline/pseuds/ridgeline
Summary: After a few loops, Constantine realized he was in hell. Not any hell, but a special one. The one that feeds on your guilt and pain; and turns them into a sharpening stone, to wear down your soul until there is nothing left. So, when he revisited the streets of Newcastle for the sixth time, he made a decision: Constantine did not step on the way that heshouldgo, but turned around, and walked into the nearest church.





	Gospel

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Gospel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716439) by [ridgeline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ridgeline/pseuds/ridgeline). 



> Big thanks for 皮老师 and Mimic's beta. English is hard!!!

After a few loops, Constantine realized he was in hell. Not any hell, but a special one. The one that feeds on your guilt and pain; and turns them into a sharpening stone, to wear down your soul until there is nothing left. So, when he revisited the streets of Newcastle for the sixth time, he made a decision. Constantine did not step on the way that he _should_ go, but turned around, and walked into the nearest church.

There was no one in the church. Constantine sat under the altar, lowered his head and clasped his hands, to support his tired forehead. He tried to remember what eventually brought him here: A failed deal, maybe half a dozen failed deals; the revenge of some two-bits gangsters, a car accidents or overdose. Constantine couldn't stop shaking, his lips trembled and his body was cold and sweaty. Although it was now invisible, he could still feel the traces of the last hell loop: the vomit stuck on his shoes, the fresh blood that soaked both his hands and shirt tails, the screaming that echoed in the depths of his soul.

That screaming will never ever stop.

After a while, the crisp footstep of Italian leather shoes echoed on the empty stone ground. The hunter had found him. Constantine didn't look up. He was too tired.

“How can I redeem myself?” he said, “Selling my soul?”

The footsteps stopped and those shoes rested in front of him.

"I am afraid this is a whole package deal, dear," Lucifer said careless, but with a rather friendly tone, "And unfortunately, I am not into your soul."

Constantine thought about that for a moment, the cold sweat was still uncontrollably oozing from his forehead and armpits, _withdrawal symptoms_. Worse yet, Constantine can still feel _the place that he needs to be_ was attracting him strongly, asking him to go, to witness what had happened more than 20 years ago which he can't do anything about. The attraction was getting stronger and stronger, like a swaying candle, and Constantine was the slow-circling moth.

"I could always offer my body, for old time's sake, love." said he, "Guess hell must be very cold, and... lonely."

Chokes. Then Lucifer took a step and stood next to Constantine, his hands loosely inserted in his pocket.

"There is really nothing you can do here," Lucifer said. "Only feel. Feel and repentense, then you could leave. Your little hell's door is not locked, Johnny."

"It's Just, no one has succeeded. So far." he added.

_However, there are always loopholes in the rules. As long as you look carefully enough,_ thought Constantine, he felt the itch spread on his skin. _Go back,_ it threatened, _go back where you were supposed to be._

"I can offer my faith." He said, throwing out the last bait carefully.

Silence. Then Lucifer leaned over him, slowly.

"Prove it." Lucifer whispered.

Constantine got up, knees on the floor, his eyes closed, mouth opened, his tongue slightly protruded. He waited and counted in his heart. _One, two, three,_ then heard the sound of leather shoes rubbed on the stone floor, lukewarm liquid fell on his tongue. Sweet. Not red wine. _blood._ Constantine opened his eyes and looked at Lucifer's index finger. A trace of blood flowed from the wound and fell into his mouth.

_In me you trust,_ Lucifer mocked.

Slowly, Constantine nodded.

"Trust me." he said.

FIN


End file.
